The Girl With the Axes
by Unicorns-and-Sugarcubes
Summary: The untold story of Johanna Mason, beginning with her first Hunger Games up through the events of the book series.


AN: Obviously I don't own the Hunger Games or any of the characters involved…all that stuff. I haven't really done this before, so sorry if it sucks. But anyway, as you know, this is a story about Johanna, because I was always rather interested by her character, which we never really got to know that well. So anyway, I plan on writing this in three parts. Part one is about Johanna's first Games, while Part 2 is about the events leading up to and during the Quarter Quell, and Part 3 will be about the events of Mockingjay. I went with a T rating just to be safe, but other than violence and a little bit of language, there's nothing too bad in it. So, I'm going to shut up now and let you read, and remember, reviews and constructive criticism is always welcomed.

**Part 1: Chapter 1**

"Oh honestly Johanna", my sister Olivia scolded, "Just look at your hair. It's a mess! Did you even brush it"?

I rolled my eyes. Typical Olivia. Ever since we lost mom and dad, she felt the need to control over every single aspect of our lives. Not just hers, but all of ours.

"Who cares?"

"It's reaping day", she replied, "You need to look nice."

I knew I had to look nice of course. Why else would I have put on that ugly little dress, the light green one printed in floral that hung on my slender frame and made me look like a complete fool?

"Why should I try and look nice for those pigs?"

"Johanna!" she gasped, "don't talk like that.

"But it's true", I protested.

"I don't care if it's true or not!" she lectured, "if you talk like that, we could all be in trouble".

I sighed. I knew she was right, of course, but did she have to be so damned proud about it? That was Olivia for you. She was always right, and if you dare forget it, she'd make you sorry.

"Olivia", Lydia's voice interrupted Olivia's tirade, and she turned to our youngest sister with a fake smile.

"Don't you like nice," she commented, then shot me a glare.

"Adorable", I replied, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.

Lydia just sighed and plopped down on the bed her and I shared. I watched silently as she took the corner of our coarse white blanket and fiddled with it. I could tell she was nervous, and Olivia seemed to pick up on it too, gently taking a seat beside her and running a gentle hand along her back.

"It'll be okay", she told Lydia softly. Lydia only shook her head. That was the thing about Lydia. Olivia could only ever see her as a naive little 13 year old, but I knew better. Lydia was smart, intuitive even. She was perfectly capable of understanding the looming possibility everything wouldn't be okay.

"We should get going", I commented solemnly.

The weather outside was terrible. The sky was a dull grey and it was drizzling a light but frigid rain, the kind that, rather than soaking you, clings to you and seeps down under your skin, chilling you to your bones. The thin little dress I was wearing really didn't do much to keep my warm, so I could add that to my list of things making me miserable.

As we headed down the winding path to the town square, I caught sight of my classmates, Birch and his friend Ash.

"Nice dress Johanna", Birch taunted. I rolled my eyes. I'd grown quite accustomed to his behavior over the years.

"At least I can take it off", I countered, "what about you? You're stuck with that face forever".

Ash gave a small chuckle at that. He, though he spent most of his time with Birch, was rather quiet, and also polite, which was a small miracle.

"Good one Johanna", Birch replied sarcastically, but even he knew it was clever.

We continued trading jeers on the way to the town square. Few but me could combat Birch's mastery of insults. Of course, soon enough we had to separate, and I was left to give my name and embark alone to the group of other 17 year old girls. I wasn't particularly close to any of them. For most my life, I was that one girl who felt more at home with the boys. The other girls were just so…shallow. Most of them couldn't even pick up an ax. Pathetic, really.

The stage that had been set up in front of the Justice Building was occupied by the District Mayor, her husband, and Blight, this year's mentor. Penelope Skyes, the Districts idiotic escort was nowhere to be found. Most likely waiting in the wings somewhere, planning some grand entrance in an attempt to somehow make the entire show all about her.

Low and behold, she soon emerged onto the stage, her hair dyed a tacky shade of purple, her dress resembling a giant purple flower that had been deformed and twisted into a dress. She teetered up on obscenely high heels that through off her balance and made her gait similar to that of a drunk. She made her way to the microphone and cooed, "Welcome everyone". She paused as if expecting some sort of reaction, but the crowd was practically dead.

"Before we begin, the mayor will be speaking to you."

The mayor clothed in her dark green suit nodded and solemnly took Penelope's place and read from the Treaty of Treason. I just toned it out. It was all the same lies from the capitol, the ones we were force fed every year.

Once she was finished, Penelope took her place once more and happily announced she would choose the name of the girl tribute first, as always. She fished around in the large glass bowl for what seemed like hours.

"Get on with it", I growled under my breath.

Finally, she seemed satisfied, took the slip and opened it.

"And the name of the girl who will be representing District 7 in this year's annual Hunger Games is…"


End file.
